She is a puzzle, pieces slowly formed, A mosaic of moments, memories that swarm. Her edges are rough, her surface worn, But in the crevices, her story is born. She is a river, flowing wild and free, Ever-changing, yet remaining me. Her depths are uncharted, her currents strong, She carve her own path, where she belong. She is a canvas, painted with vibrant hues, A kaleidoscope of colors, emotions, and views. Her brush strokes bold, her art unique, She create herself, with every choice she seek. She is a melody, harmonious and clear, A symphony of laughter, tears, and cheer. Her rhythm is her's, her beat is true, She sing her own song, with a heart that's new. Read to find out more about her